When I woke up this morning, having failed to do my yoga OR my walk yesterday, I was about as uninterested in my workout as I could be.

I started my stupid crab kicks and they were hard and made my elbow hurt. Then the bear crawls or whatever made my knee hurt. Then the “rainbow raises” (eye roll) made my shoulder hurt. These weights are too heavy, I thought for the millionth time. My abs don’t hurt, because all these moves are so complex and jangly that I’m hurting myself instead of getting a workout, I grumbled.

And then I was like… wait. I am the captain of this ship for chrissakes. If this workout hurts (and not in an I have really worked hard way, but more like an I am old and broken forever way) and if the author hasn’t gotten back to me in two weeks… WHY KEEP DOING IT?

So, halfway through, I pulled a printout of a “running smart” core routine out of my filing cabinet and finished my circuit doing those exercises. There is still one I need to modify because I have gained so much weight that I can’t do a side plank right now (I am so depressed about my weight I am so depressed about my weight I am so depressed about my weight). But anyway, my morning workout should not make me even more depressed. So I am saying fuck Hannah Eden who can’t be bothered to respond to non-crossfitter-hard-bodies. That part felt like a tiny success.

We were supposed to go on a hike for Valentines Day so I didn’t go on my lunch walk, but like almost every other plan to do something active, it didn’t work out and instead we sat at our desks and/or stared at screens all day. Only two people and it is apparently impossible to coordinate three lousy hours in a day. Supposedly, we will do it tomorrow. This time, I plan to go on my lunch walk anyway, because the disappointment of all the things we meant to do but didn’t get to is sometimes too heavy a burden for me. It is hard for me to wait wait wait wait, feeling miserable inside of my body as it overflows all my clothing. Meanwhile, as I’m waiting to start hiking regularly (a thing that will happen, always, “soon” but not today–again–not today), I’m getting too fat for the last round of hiking clothes that I bought.

The whole point of this stupid experiment was to feel better, and I feel worse. Every damn day, just sadder and less capable of anything.